


The Ocean Bleeds Salty

by nyoka



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F, Genderswap, Rule 63, girl!Dean, girl!castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2013-10-05
Packaged: 2017-12-28 12:41:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/992128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyoka/pseuds/nyoka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sand is soft under Deanna’s bare feet, and the air smells of salt and water.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ocean Bleeds Salty

**Author's Note:**

> For Lauren, who asked for rule!63 Dean/Castiel to [this image](http://dedicated-toher.tumblr.com/post/31579367959). Originally posted [here](http://nyokala.tumblr.com/post/34163814955/the-ocean-bleeds-salty-rule63-dean-cas). Title and quote from _Ocean Breathes Salty_ by Modest Mouse.

_*_

_well maybe we’ll get lucky and we’ll both die old_   
_i don’t know, i don’t know, i don’t know, i hope so_

*

The wind picks up around sundown, and the fading light colors the surrounding sand dunes in reds and oranges, a honey-sweet blend that reminds Deanna of late nights driving through the Mojave when she was a kid, her daddy crooning along to CCR, and Sammy snoring away in the backseat. Deanna had pressed her knobby knees against the dash, counting the minutes until the next hunt, until she would be needed again.

Deanna knows she and Cas have no excuse to linger here by the ocean today; the bones of the ghost haunting Port Childe’s lighthouse were salted and burned hours ago.

But they do linger.

The sand is soft under Deanna’s bare feet, and the air smells of salt and water. She’s wearing ripped jean cut-offs, ragged at the edges, and a stained tank-top. Her arms and neck are stiff with a day’s worth of sun-burn. In a week, she’ll have freckles all over her body, her wholemilk skin spattered with honey-gold, and the thought of enduring Sam’s teasing is only outweighed by the thought of Cas kissing the rough patterns across her shoulders.

Deanna is brought out of her thoughts by the loud sound of waves breaking against the rocks of the sea-side cliffs, and for a while she watches Cas walk along the beach, the angel’s tangled, midnight black hair blowing wildly in the wind, her pale legs sinking into the bubbling surf.

Maybe they could stay here for a while, Deanna muses. The beach is private enough, and they could park the Impala near the road, bathe in the sun-warmed water in the afternoons, share one of those flannel-lined sleeping bags to keep warm in the cool September nights. Deanna smiles, shaking away the thought. She’s being ridiculous, she knows, but for the moment, it feels good to dream of something simpler. Something more than the hunt.

"We should get going, Cas," she calls out to the angel, knowing Sam will be worried soon enough, and they have a long drive back to Bobby’s.

Cas turns around, and for a moment her eyes are deep and full of the sea. She walks toward Deanna, hands attempting to push her wind-blown hair away from her face. Cas is still wearing the remnants of the power suit she used to interview families earlier today, her dark skirt wrinkled by the long day’s work, and the cotton of her white blouse pulling tight over her full breasts.

This still feels new each time. The fact that Deanna can look at Cas like this. Look longer, look with abandon. That she gets to have Cas like this…it’s so damn crazy. Something warm twists in Deanna’s belly, and the familiar, hot ache between her legs sends her stepping forward, _wanting_.

Cas looks up at her when they stand in front of each other at last. They lean close, foreheads pressing together, arms wrapping around slender waists. “I think we should stay a while longer,” Cas says, voice quiet and thoughtful under the rush of the waves.

"What about the hunt out in Wichita?" Deanna asks, frowning.

"Sam and Bobby are very capable hunters, Deanna," Cas says, voice low and chiding. "And I would like…to rest here. It’s peaceful here."

"Yeah it is," Deanna says, pushing straggles of Castiel’s dark hair, salt-soaked and damp, off her cheek and tucking them behind her ears. "Okay, then. Let’s stay a while."

Cas presses moist, salty lips against Deanna’s forehead. She pulls back slightly and presses another soft kiss against Deanna’s nose. “You have four new ones there.”

"Goddammit," Deanna groans, chuckling and pulling Cas closer. It’s habit really, to lean into each other’s space like this. It was always this way with them, from the beginning, and Deanna thinks they both needed it as much back then as they do now. Not saying anything, just drawing closer, filling every space they can.

They sway together. The ocean is a soft soundtrack in the background, and it almost feels like they’re dancing to it, lost to the rhythm, and to each other.

It feels, like everything else between them, inevitable.


End file.
